


Check(mate)

by alexxir



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Bondage, Choking, Claude is an in-denial sub hohoho, F/M, Femdom, Light Dom/sub, Oral Sex, Pegging, Porn with Feelings, Post-Golden Deer Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Self-Discovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:54:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22795111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexxir/pseuds/alexxir
Summary: Cogs began to click into place. He'd always go wild when she was on top, or when she'd squeeze him just a little too tight. She remembered a time when she had used her thumb to wipe the side of his cheek and he had taken it into his lips. She'd scolded him by pushing it deeper into his mouth to gag him, but it had the complete opposite intended effect.His stammered apologises and red cheeks now suddenly made a lot more sense.He was into this. But he'd never bought it up. Was he… embarrassed? Ashamed?She was going to talk to him about it.---Claude battles insecurities about subbing and gets pegged by Byleth, the saga.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 11
Kudos: 208





	Check(mate)

**Author's Note:**

> THIS FIC NOW HAS GLORIOUS ARTWORK by the incredible [@bruisedmitz](https://twitter.com/bruisedmitz/status/1256498271901454337?s=19)!~
> 
> thanks a million to [@rydia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rydia/pseuds/rydia) for the beta read!

The first time Claude had ever entertained such ideas, he could barely keep the blush from his cheeks.

He hadn’t been someone with a lot of interest in… well, matters of a carnal nature. Sure, he’d been a hormonal young man, and a man who had enjoyed reaping the benefits of an overly active imagination on the occasional restless night. But overall, he had little interest in romantic or sexual pursuits. Never sought them out, never felt them necessary in the grand scheme of things.

The self discovery had been completely accidental.

It had been thrilling finding Seteth's confiscated library materials - well, thrilling was probably an undersell. Really, it had been his most lucrative discovery at Garreg Mach to date. He'd unearthed centuries-old diaries belonging to monks from Western Faerghus, sealed tomes containing an assortment of terrifying dark spells (he'd gift those to Lysithea later) - he'd even found an illustrative map of the monastery which revealed hidden passageways and rooms that were certainly _not_ disclosed on official records.

His fingers had reached for a particular book with a name that stumped him. Opening it had proved to be quite a shock.

_This is… really!?  
_

Claude had slammed it shut, face hot enough to cook on. It had taken him a moment to collect himself, swallowing whatever noise had threatened to give himself away to anyone that might hear. Once the initial embarrassment had worn off, he had slowly peeled through pages and pages of rather… excessive diagrams, and passionate descriptions of acts he'd never even conceptualised was possible, let alone had heard of before. What was in this book had somehow even escaped being the bawdy punchlines to the taunts of drunken bandits (crass pools of knowledge, those were).

His finding had him stumped. Wasn't Fódlan supposed to be the epitome of prudence? The contents of this book felt more than just deviant - it felt like something the church should have struck down in a brilliant display of flames the moment they caught wind of it. The fact that it _hadn't_ been, though, was most curious indeed.

The book stayed with him. 

  
  


\--

  
  


War had thrown Fódlan into chaos. Months felt like years, years felt like decades. If Claude’s life before coming to Fódlan had been nothing but trying to survive, he doubted he'd have been lucky enough to see these long years through.

Byleth suddenly reappeared at his side, faithful to her promise to meet again on that fated day. Claude had returned to the monastery, hand in hand with his beloved classmates who'd seen the best in him and believed in all his ambitions.

The book that had once lingered in his mind had been all but forgotten about, but that wasn’t surprising. Many things in his life had been sidelined, collecting dust amongst the dozens of other "borrowed" items that were stashed under his dorm room bed.

It had been almost overlooked when the war was over, too. The bittersweet task of gathering the last of his possessions for his return to Almyra had been well underway. By pure chance, Claude happened to find it again, and while he wasn't nearly as flustered when his eyes fell upon it this time around, he couldn't bring himself to just abandon it to the church. Perhaps he could compare its "research" to the books back home, now that he was of an age where he could understand what such books would even look like. So he'd stashed this book at the bottom of a satchel, and it had come with him on his long journey back to Almyra. 

  
  


\--

  
  


He returned to Fódlan again on his promise. Once his army descended upon the last of the Agarthans, and with Claude eager to save Fódlan and use the victory to weave ties with his homeland, there was no longer a need to keep his royal lineage hidden.

Byleth told him that she'd known for a while. It had taken the fun out of the whole reveal, but he should've figured. Teach had always been unassumingly shrewd.

Claude began to make a habit of visiting Fódlan whenever he could. It pained both of them that he could never stay long, for his commitments as King were never-ending, and unable to be neglected for longer than a couple of weeks at best.

He and Byleth bonded more deeply after the war, without the ever-looming threat of death souring whatever moments they stole for themselves. They were partners now, partners who confided in each other, and who could offer a shoulder (or a warm body) to ward off the more antagonistic burdens of ruling a nation.

He had grown to truly love her. 

  
  


\--

  
  


On the eve of his latest trip to Fodlan, Byleth expressed her wish to visit Almyra.

"You're always coming here," she said, folding her arms.

Claude was quick to the punch. "Well of course. I have friends here. I don't spend _all_ my evenings with you." It was a half truth. Byleth wasn't fooled.

"Alright, you got me. I would've extended the offer sooner had I not been worried Seteth would have your head over it."

His former professor snorted. "Seteth's a grown man. He can handle affairs for a few weeks. I deserve a holiday."

"Too true."

Claude gleefully pulled her into a hug. The possibilities of her visiting had him beaming down at her. "You’ll love it there. Lots of wyverns, the best food you'll ever eat, sunny skies in all seasons." He shot a pointed look at the collar of her outfit. "No need to wear this stuffy old thing."

Her archbishop robes were a constant thorn in her side, and he knew it. Her consenting huff agreed with him.

"I'll start planning soon." A light peck on his cheek. "When's the earliest you could have me?"

Claude's foot tapped rhymically as he mulled it over. "Give me a month. I've got business with some petty lords in the north east when I return." He pulled his arms tighter around her. "Are you sure about this?"

She looked up into his eyes, and her gaze softened. "I'm sure." A pause, and then - "It's a part of you I've never seen but I've always wanted to know."

He picked her up and twirled her round, and they both laughed until their chests hurt. 

  
  


\---

  
  


The book had remained a part of his subconscious, even in Almyra. It had a more permanent lodging in a small cabinet beside his bed now, and he had long since abandoned any shame in enjoying its contents alone.

Was it truly so wrong to chase away the loneliness in his heart with it? He could go _months_ without sharing a bed with Byleth. As culturally taboo as he had come to understand its depictions were, he could easily convince himself it was nothing more than satisfying a basic need.

He could use it to better imagine Byleth in those illustrations, and then, to help create better fantasies.

Those deeper, more depraved, fantasies.

That he never bought up.

Not once.

Not even when he'd been given an opportunity to do so. 

  
  


\--- 

  
  


Byleth had been drilling him into the mattress for a blissful, absolutely delicious, few minutes. Watching her perform was mesmerising. Her chest bounced, her mouth lazily parted open, and her hair cascaded down her shoulders to bathe her whole visage in a serene, divine glow. He could let her claim her pleasure from him at her own pace, use him how she saw fit.

_Use him how she saw fit._

"B-By," he heaved, clutching onto her thighs for dear life, "Grab my throat."

She slowed her movements down but did not stop. "Your throat?" Her voice was breathless.

"Please," he whined, too far gone to think too much into what he was asking for.

Her pupils dilated. She loomed over him, hands smoothing over the plains of his hairy chest, up over his collarbones, and then, to the exposed column of his neck, stretched and vulnerable just for her.

He _shivered._  
  


Her hands closed around him firmly, her gaze hungry, dark, and _holy shit holy shit._

She tore his orgasm straight from him.

It took a few more moments than normal to come down from his high.

"Hey, Claude?" she rolled off him. Snuggled up to his side, still thrumming with energy. "Are you ok?"

"What?"

Was there something on his face?

"No."

_Did he say that out loud?  
_

He tore his eyes from the roof to peer down at her. One hand was roaming across his chest, the other had snaked down between her legs.

Several emotions stirred within him.

Byleth's fingers dug into his skin. "You were really, really hot like that."

_Huh._

Her breathing grew heavy, drawing in sharp, steady gasps.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Her eyes were closed, brows knitted together, and she was biting the bottom of her lips in that coquettish way of hers. He looped an arm around and pulled her in closely. Planted kisses on her head, gripped her thighs in the way he knew drew her crazy. Her strokes quickened, the slick sounds riling up the both of them.

She came with a wordless cry, seizing up against him.

His fingers stroked her gently, calmly. Patiently waited for her to return to the world.

When she spoke again, her voice was hoarse.

"That was…"

He raised an eyebrow. It didn't have nearly half the cocky energy he would normally give it. He swallowed.

"... something."

He didn't say anything. He didn't know if he could. It was easier to pretend to fall asleep than to think about the implications of her words. 

  
  


\---

  
  


She found the book.

Byleth was left to her own devices in the castle, waiting for Claude to finish up a private council meeting in regards to some local new building being constructed, and she was trying to kill time in a lazy sort of manner. There was no point in attending the meeting, as Byleth's presence in the room would do little except confuse the local architects.

She was a little bored - and a little careless, if she was being honest with herself. Some part of her felt a little guilty for going through Claude's things. He had done the same to her many times (he had underestimated her powers of observation and been caught), but Byleth wasn't as secretive as Claude, nor as guarded as him. Her possessions were mundane enough.

Her head tilted to the side. With a name like that, left in an open drawer on a bedside table… her suspicions were swiftly confirmed upon opening the book.

The blush was instantaneous.

She took a careful seat on the edge of their bed. There was quite a lot to take in.

One page went into explicit, graphic detail about how to locate and torture various places of pleasure on the human body. Another provided tips on how to safely bind together your lovers without lasting injuries. One page was just a fully illustrated spread of a guy, bound at the eyes and mouth, hanging from iron shackles, having something thrust between his legs.

She slammed together the book with an undignified yelp.

Her heart was hammering. This knowledge of Claude's more uncommon interests had her mind reeling to catch up.

Cogs began to click into place. He'd always go wild when she was on top, or when she'd squeeze him just a little too tight. She remembered a time when she had used her thumb to wipe the side of his cheek and he had taken it into his lips. She'd scolded him by pushing it deeper into his mouth to gag him, but it had the complete opposite intended effect.

His stammered apologises and red cheeks now suddenly made a _lot_ more sense.

He was into this. But he'd never bought it up. Was he… embarrassed? Ashamed?

She was going to talk to him about it. 

  
  


\--

  
  


He choked on his tea.

"Come again?"

She hummed, tapping her fingers against the oak table. "I've just been thinking about mixing things up. You don't have to say yes."

Claude scrambled for a response. "No no, By, I mean - I'm just curious as to what prompted this."

Her next words were carefully stewed over before she spoke them.

"I've wondered about what your preferences might be. I thought that you'd enjoy letting me take more control."

His deflection was said with a wink. Clearly practiced. "Well, I do have a thing for powerful women."

"Not what I meant."

A sigh. "I know."

She reached for his free hand, wove her fingers through his. "Are you embarrassed about it?"

"Embarrassed? Stars, no." A beat, then. "At least, I don't _think_ it's embarrassment."

She tried to search for the answer in his eyes. His gaze didn't meet hers - it was somewhere far, far away.

She confessed. "I found a book by your bedside table, I-"

He jolted. His thighs collided with the table with a heavy _thud_ , the contents of his tea sloshing in the cup.

She let go of his fingers in a hurry, quick to apologise. "Ah. I'm sorry."

His laugh was so high pitched that Byleth couldn't help but crack an eyebrow at it. "Don't be! It's not as if it was concealed, or left some place I wouldn't want you to find it-"

_Oh._

She stood up slowly, pushing her chair back.

As she made her way over to him, she said nothing. Stopping when she stood behind him, Byleth placed her hands on both of his shoulders.

"Claude." Her voice held that special sort of authoritative tone to it, the one that thrummed with concern. "Please be honest with me. Please be honest with yourself."

It took him a few deep breaths to relax into her.

"It's … been difficult to admit it to myself."

She waited for him to continue. Her hands massaged the knots that had him wound up too tight.

"I guess I'm terrified of my own desires. How ironic is that?" His laugh was bitter. "I'm all roses and sunshine until it comes down to the execution, and then... I just feel lost. I've always needed to be in control of a situation, and this desire is the opposite of that."

Byleth was stunned. "You think so?"

He craned his head around to look up at her. "What do you mean?"

She paused. "I think the control would be with you. It's your desires, your choice to let go." Byleth planted a kiss on the top of his head. "And you could stop at any time."

Claude took a deep breath. She felt him finally let go of whatever tension he was carrying on his shoulders and leaned back into her touch, while letting his head sink into his chest.

"You're completely right, as always. And besides, I trust you. I think I just need to work through," he gestured to himself in a waving motion, "all of this."

Her grin was wide and genuine. "We have time."

He chuckled, and bent his head back to look up into her eyes.

"Say, By? All this talk about me, and you haven't even told me _your_ favourite discovery yet."

She tried to not dignify him with a blush in response, and failed. 

  
  


\--

  
  


Everything had to be perfect.

Byleth triple-checked her inventory again.

 _Okay._ One pair of leather braces, already half fastened to the bed, check. "Massage" oil, check. The prettiest shaped fake cock she'd ever seen, complete with the prettiest attaching harness? Checkmate.

Thank the goddess Almyran merchants weren't as uptight as the ones from Fódlan. She'd need to smuggle this equipment back home for sure.

Byleth wandered back and forth across the room, lighting various candles with a snap of reason magic as she thought over the game plan for tonight.

Claude wasn’t too far away. Some more council meetings, and then he had plans to take a long bath. She'd offered to join him, but he laughed and whispered, "It's a preparation bath."

She didn't get it at first. Not until she'd sauntered back to his room did her brain finally catch up to the implications.

One last snap of her fingers, and the stage was set. Restless now, she began to pace back and forth. Should she read that book again to get her in the mood? Nah, she might get carried away and miss his entrance. Maybe she could triple check the braces? Surely that would be excessive, they looked plenty secure on her double-check. Her nervous energy was now powerful enough to have her whole body vibrate.

Her ears perked at the sound of approaching footsteps. A jiggle of the lock, and the door creaked open.

She stood, frozen, caught in her indecision.

"Good evening, By-" Claude stopped short, giving her a concerned frown. "Hey. You doing ok?"

He was quick to approach her, laying a hand on her shoulder. "You look like you're about to burst."

Byleth blinked. "Oh. I'm fine." She met his gaze. "I just didn't know what I wanted to do."

"Oh. OH!" Claude chuckled as the realisation hit him. "Don't sweat it, By, you're doing great already." His eyes swept around the room, and he grinned. "I love what you've done to the place. Feels very romantic." He pulled her in for a hug. "You sure know how to make a man feel special."

She smiled, pressing her face into his shoulder. They stood for a while, holding each other close, enjoying the warmth and comfort of each other's embrace.

When he inched away, his voice was a whispered hush. "I, uh. Had an interesting bath."

She peeled her face off him to look up. "How so?"

Claude’s chuckle was a little too high pitched to be confident. "It was a discovery of sorts. We could… always re-discover it together?"

Even his wink didn't have half its usual charm. Gods, he was nervous.

She planted a quick kiss on his cheek. "You sure about this?"

He scratched the back of his head. "Not sure, no, but enthusiastic? Absolutely."

Her hand reached up to cup his chin. "We'll figure this out together."

She caught his soft exhale, and smiled. 

\---

  
  


"How does that feel?"

He jiggled his wrists about, testing the waters. It was unyielding, but not enough so that he couldn't move around where needed, or roll his shoulders if they were to ache with the strain.

"Seems secure enough."

"Good." She planted a kiss on his forehead. "Nothing hurts?"

"Not yet, at least." The tongue in cheek was implied and Byleth knew it.

She leaned up from her kneeling position over him and carefully dragged her hands from the cuffs down to his arms, down the plains of his wide, scruffy-haired chest. His muscles were still pulled too tight, his eyes just a little too gazed over, and she was determined to wring that worry out of him.

She closed her eyes. "Relax." Her hands made soothing motions against his skin, rubbing circles with her thumb, and she watched the tension seep out of him with every purposeful caress.

His chuckle was nervous. "Hard to do with my best friend pinning me down to the bed."

Her grin was cat-like. "You call this pinning?"

It was a dare. Her eyes sought his, a question there. He answered with a nod and collected himself with a cough.

"Sorry, did I say pinning? I meant, barely touching me, of course."

"Hmm."

With a dramatic swoop, she planted her bottom on top of his chest. Being built of solid muscle meant she knew he would struggle to hold her weight so close to his lungs - he confirmed this with a slight wheeze. Satisfied he could tolerate the pressure, she bent down and cupped his jaw between her hands.

"Careful what you wish for."

His blush was immediate. Her stomach did a little flip at the sight of it. _Cute._

Still, the tension in his eyes hadn't exactly fully faded yet. She'd need to pull out all the stops. Make him pliant, have him trust her. And she could do that - she'd always been doing that for him, really.

With a breathless sigh, she angled backward. One hand gripped his bare thighs, the other began to play with the pretty lace of her smallclothes. She made sure she had his full attention now.

"Like what you see?"

An excitable swallow. "Absolutely."

"Good."

A lone finger crept down the black lace, brushing only slightly, willing herself to show restraint. Claude's eyes never left her movements. She pressed a finger to her clit through her fabric, and felt the stress ebb from her shoulders, the way her spine relaxed and her core clenched down upon nothing. Claude's breathing was heavy, enraptured by her pleasure. With half a mind present, she used her other hand to trawl its way upwards to rest on his crotch, and was delighted to find he was already half hard for her.

"Nmph! - yeah, By, please-"

Her palm withdrew from his bulge where it had been absent-mindedly stroking him to fullness. "You will not move."

His groan in frustration was a nice contrast to his deepening blush.

"Stay still," she commanded, more insistent. He complied, though not without a flicker of effort shown by his knotted eyebrows.

She began to palm him again, in time with her own ministrations on her clit. His need urged her on, a triumphant surge of pride that emboldened her to embrace this role she'd been given. She felt powerful, but also blessed, just like this, to have him willingly surrender himself to her whims and enjoy himself under her heel.

The lace was growing wet and sticky, and it made it easier to rub herself, to have her breathing quicken and her pulse run hot. Claude noticed her growing excitement - his face was downright ravenous.

She slowed herself to a halt. Leaned forward next to his ear. Whispered, "If what's next is too much, clap the soles of your feet together."

He nodded, a spark of curiosity in his eyes when she pulled back up to face him again.

Her smile was wide when she leaned over to the bedside table to fetch the vial of oil. "Well, it's all well and good that I'm soaked, but it's no fair on you, is it?"

His eyebrow crooked upwards, and Byleth only hummed in response. Lifted off his chest - he took a deep breath in, savouring the newfound freedom in his lungs - and she turned around. Her ass pushed up against his face.

"You'd better make prepping you worth it."

She felt him groan against her thighs.

If he tried to further respond with words, she couldn’t hear them. They were lost in skin to skin contact, lost to the thrum in her eardrums when she leaned forward to be flush with his groin. She peeled off his smallclothes with the utmost care, slipping them down so slowly, so _agonisingly_ slowly, a test of patience. Her breaths were warm against his heat. Careful to not give him the satisfaction of lips against skin, though. He had not earned the right; not yet.

Claude buried himself in the lace at his face with glee, nosing at her to take in her scent, her wetness, her everything. His enthusiasm was welcome; she caught herself drooling and made to steady herself. Her hips rocked against him subconsciously, little, subtle movements, seeking friction, seeking more of his warm lips and slick tongue. Somehow, he had gotten a hold of the material with his teeth, and had tried to pull the whole thing down - tried, and failed. His grunts were priceless.

"Here," she said, voice light with fondness. She reached around to grab a hold of the lace and shimmied it down to her knees. "Better?"

"Better."

Even she could not hold herself together when his lips returned to her core.

"Ah - C-Claude!"

Her head lolled, mouth parted wide open. The elbows keeping her propped above him were starting to shake with the sheer effort of holding herself up.

Claude was eating her out like a man possessed. Ravenously lapping against her folds, against her aching clit. He was normally so gentle, so cautious whenever he would go down on her (which was frequently - he was always happy to service), but this was different. So widely uninhibited.

 _Pop._ She opened the vial of oil. The cork was discarded somewhere - she'd deal with that later. For now, her lust-addled brain needed to gather up all of her concentration for this. Dipping a finger into the bottle (not cold, oddly enough) to coat herself in the substance, she slithered it down to press against the pucker of skin.

She felt his wail more than she heard it.

The fire in her stomach roared.

Pressing her finger against him, Byleth softly coaxed him to relax for her. It wasn't as difficult as she suspected, perhaps in some part due to his bathing preparations. But all the same, she remembered to be careful, to be patient. The tip of her finger breached him, slid down eventually to the knuckle, and - goddess, he was _shivering._

"This ok?"

She felt him nod against her. He had all but forgotten about eating her out, opting to breathe deeply against her instead. She wriggled her finger, testing the waters. It was when she pushed in a second that Claude bit into the inside of her thigh.

"Too much?"

She felt his head shake vigorously. _Well, then._

Her fingers scissored him well, working him open until he was a trembling, panting mess. To reward him for his effort, she nuzzled down on his cock, planting the softest of kisses there. His cock jumped and softly smacked her in the face. She couldn't work out if she wanted to laugh or moan at that.

Claude spurred into action with his tongue again and _oh, moaning it is_ _then_.

Running her lips across his shaft seemed to do wonders for loosening his muscles. It wasn't long before the oil and his eagerness paved the way for three fingers to the hilt, and good goddess if working him like this wasn't sending shivers down her spine.

With no small tinge of regret, she moved herself away from his face to sit up properly, collecting her thoughts and plotting her next course of action. She swivelled around, and was greeted with lidded eyes, a slicked nose and mouth, and an expression that was lust and nerves and _many_ other emotions she couldn't quite identify.

"I'll be right back."

She carefully slipped off his chest, and out of the underwear still hanging around her knees. The harness lay in wait for her on the table. Claude watched on - partly sheepish, mostly eager - as she bent down to slip into the ensemble and tied the bands around her hips. She struggled with the bracing, almost dropping the dildo in the process.

"Nn - how does this… "

She looked back at Claude, exasperated. He cocked an eyebrow. "I'd help you, but as you can see, I'm a little…" he shook his tied wrists for good measure, "preoccupied."

Her eyes narrowed. Fine. She spun around, choosing to shield her display of inelegance from him as the belts (and cock) cozied into place.

Finally.

She made to move to the bed, and was stopped by the sight of herself. The blush must've been evident, because Claude's wit had finally returned to him by way of a bold grin.

"How's the new limb?"

She shook her hips. "Secure."

He chuckled. "Good to know it won't fly off, then."

Byleth crawled across the mattress to rest in between his knees. The energy shifted - Claude took a deep breath. Was he second guessing himself?

Her hand reached for his knee instinctively. Stroked him reassuringly, waited for him to consent. 

"Can I..?"

He took another deep breath. This one was shakier than the first, but still betraying the hint of a smile on his lips.

"Yeah, please. And By?"

"Hmm?"

"You, uh." His eyes instinctively looked away. "You don't need to worry about hurting me."

Well. It wasn't exactly a "please ravage me senseless," but she supposed it was close enough in Claude's terms. She'd work on that another time.

Her arms looped around the underside of his knees, scooping his legs up and forcing his body to fold for her. His eyes were wide open and attentive, watching as she fumbled for the jar of oil, pouring it down the dildo and using her palm to smear it around. For good measure, she used the excess to push her fingertips into his hole again and he bit down hard on his bottom lip.

When the tip of the cock entered him, his eyes rolled up into his head.

"Oh, fuck."

He was a trembling mess. His hands had balled into fists above him, desperately clutching at the air as if it could brace him, somehow. His mouth fell open completely at the sight of their joining, of Byleth pushing further and further until she had him at the hilt. Her hands roamed the flesh of his thighs, nails digging into him with a carnal, gleeful sort of enthusiasm that only seemed to rile him up in return.

"I'm going to move now."

His nod was comically enthusiastic.

It took a while to find a rhythm that worked. He was patient with her as she grew accustomed to the movement. Steadily, her thrusts gained confidence, and as she used the back of one thigh to brace herself, the other reached for his neglected cock to stroke him in time with her movements.

The effect on Claude was instantaneous. His back snapped up, overwhelmed with the shocks of pleasure that bolted down his spine. Garbled praises left his mouth as he moved up and down with her, trying to chase the friction in time with her thrusts.

"Fuck, hah, amazing, this is - ahhh, s-stars, I-"

His breath caught in his throat, and his cries flipped a switch in Byleth's brain. Her pupils fully dilated, and the way she was staring at him was probably best described as wild. With a strength unparalleled, she bent Claude straight in half. The pace she set became punishing and ruthless, barely giving him time to adjust as the cock stretched him to his limit.

At this angle, he could wrap his legs around her shoulders and she leveraged that for balance. The hand that had been gripping his thighs darted forward for his throat.

"Hah!"

She squeezed her fingers into his flesh, feeling for his strained swallow, his red-hot pulse. Her strokes quickened and the thrusts became more insistent, trying to unravel him as quickly as possible. And _goddess,_ it was working.

Claude had no words - no thoughts, really. His mind was blissfully tapped out in a foggy haze of lust and need that overwhelmed his senses. Her grip was a thunder spell, her strokes electrifying his spine and she had him twitching at every stroke and squeeze. And on top of it all, he felt so damn _full_. Every thrust had him want to feel her deeper, want to have her possess him and fuck him till he no longer wanted anything else in this world.

His own sharp gasps roused him. Byleth had adjusted slightly, and _oh fuck._ The dildo rubbed up against that sensitive part he'd discovered in the bath, and surely he was going to die.

"There," he said, or croaked, because he wasn't sure of anything when all that he felt was her.

"This?" she echoed, a murmur in the fog, and he somehow mustered the strength to nod again. Through half-lidded eyes he saw her sharp grin widen, and then he saw nothing, because his eyes squeezed shut and his stomach pulled so tight and-

"By!" The scream tore from his lips. She hilted in him with a growl, and it was like the last string had snapped. The wave came crashing down through wordless cries and frozen thighs, his seed spilling forth on her hands and his chest.

  
  


\--

  
  


Claude cracked open an eye and met Byleth's fond gaze, mustering a smile for her. The high was slowly ebbing away, and he felt its throes leave him to be replaced with a gentle, peaceful sense of exhaustion. She leaned forward to plant several kisses on his jaw and cheek.

"That was wonderful," she mused, nuzzling her face against his. "How do you feel?"

If it took him a while to respond, she didn't comment on it. "Like I've been thoroughly fucked."

Her ugly snort was glorious. Grinning, he used his heels to rub his affection across her back. "Truly. How will I ever walk after this?" His eyes pleaded with her in that famous comical way of his. "Maybe you'll just have to carry me around everywhere."

She tapped his shoulder. "Nonsense. You ride wyverns every day. I'm sure your ass will recover just fine."

They broke out into a laughing fit. 

  
  


\---

The aftercare was gentle. Despite Claude's bravado, he was, in fact, pretty damn sore. His throat was raw, his thighs and wrists ached, and gods, he really did feel like he'd been torn apart by her strap. When Byleth returned from the washroom with a wet cloth, he all but melted into her, the coolness of the cloth soothing the pains and freeing him of that itchy stickiness.

Two minutes into their spooning, the realisation smacked him in the face. He scrambled around to face her.

"I - I never returned the favour-"

Byleth silenced him with a finger to the lips. "I appreciate the thought, but." She made a point of stretching, and wincing. "I'm sore in muscles I didn't know existed. I could use the sleep." A beat, and then, "Is this how you feel when you fuck me?"

The mirth in his chuckle was clear. "Probably." He snuck a kiss on the underside of her chin. "You'll have to let me make it up to you some time."

She pulled him tight to her. "Tomorrow morning. Breakfast in bed, and breakfast at the dinner table."

Well, let it be known that Claude von Riegan had quite the appetite.


End file.
